Bunny Slippers
by TreacleTart301
Summary: The story of the Longbottom Family and their encounter with Bellatrix Lestrange.
1. The Longbottom Family

It was a humid summer night not unlike many others. Alice and Frank Longbottom were both tired after an excruciatingly long week in the office. They were both working long hours as Aurors, tracking down the last few Death Eaters who remained free since the fall of Voldemort. In an attempt to keep their personal life somewhat normal, the two of them insisted on sitting at the dinner table and sharing a meal with their two young sons, Benjamin and Neville, every evening.

On this particular night, Alice trod around the kitchen in her pink bunny slippers and silk robe, whipping up dinner. A slight breeze was blowing through the open windows, causing her robe to flutter softly against her thighs. As she cooked, she hummed to herself while keeping track of her knife magically chopping vegetables. Happy to be away from work, she swayed to the melody.

In the dining room, her oldest son, Benjamin, dutifully set the table and cared for his baby brother, Neville. His tiny hands lifted one ceramic plate after another, carried them to each place setting, and clanked them down against the thick mahogany wood where they would soon be eating. Neville fussed in his chair once or twice, but Benjamin distracted him with small displays of magic. Once everything was set, he sat patiently at the table beside his baby brother and waited for his father to come down stairs. So many exciting things had happened that morning and he couldn't wait to tell him all about it.

The smell of the Steak and Kidney pie wafting through the house brought Frank down the stairs. Saliva filled his mouth as he inhaled the scent of the steaming meal. He kissed his wife on her cheek and thanked her for the lovely dinner. Sitting down across from Benjamin, he began spooning out portions of pie and salad. A smile covered his face as Benjamin cleaned his plate of everything, including his vegetables. It was nice not having a picky child, he thought.

Over dinner, Frank listened to Benjamin's excitement over the trick he had learned earlier in the day. To demonstrate, the small boy picked up a carrot, laid it flat on his hand, and concentrated on it with all his might. Everyone was surprised to see the carrot levitate a few inches from his palm and rotate in circles. Frank was incredibly proud to see that even at the tender age of five, Benjamin showed incredible magical promise, much more than other boys his age.

The scene looked much like the many other families sitting at their own dinner tables across England, except for the shadowy figures looming a few feet away from their dining room window. They stood on the sidewalk, partially hidden by a large tree in the front yard. Black cloaks were wrapped tightly around them causing them to blend in to the night sky and steel shrouded their faces, preventing passer bys from being able to identify them in case they were spotted. It seemed that they were intently watching the Longbottom family as if their dinner routine might provide some answer to a perplexing question.

As Alice began to clear the plates, the shadowy figures quickly crept towards the house, robes blowing up around them as the breeze picked up slightly. They paused at the front porch, knowing that as soon as they stepped onto the wood, their footsteps would be heard.

"Ready?" whispered the tallest of the three. The other two nodded silently. They sped up the stairs as the smallest of the three yelled "Alohamora". The front door slammed open and the three of them were through before anyone knew what was going on.

Frank heard the slamming of the door and whipped around quickly, wand in hand, ready to engage in a fight to protect his family, but a perfectly timed stunning spell hit him square in the chest. The wand he had clutched so tightly clattered to the floor and rolled several feet away. His body followed seconds later, crumpling into a large, uesless heap and his head made a sickening sound as it connected with a nearby book shelf.

Alice heard the noise and panicked. With her children's safety being the only thing she could think of, she sprinted into the room and quickly engaged the intruders. She fought valiantly, shooting spells in every direction.

"Benjamin, take your brother and run. Do it now!" The moment Alice took to instruct her son would be her downfall. As the last words left her lips, she was hit with a stunning spell and fell backwards over the table, smashing into a chair as she crashed down.

Benjamin tried to do as his mother said, but lifting Neville out of his chair was proving impossible for the five year old. He struggled over and over again, trying desperately to lift the plump baby. Fear filled his tiny heart and froze his limbs as the three intruders stepped forward. Benjamin bit his lip as they passed by him, walking to where his parents lay unconscious on the floor. He watched as one of them kicked his father over. He wanted to scream at them to stop, but terror had caused the words to dry up in his mouth.

"Rodolphous…take their wands."

The hood of the first intruder fell back onto her shoulders. Benjamin was surprised to see that she was a woman. Long, dark black, curly hair fell just past her shoulders and her face was plastered with a maniacal expression. Her long, elegant fingers were wrapped tightly around a short, stubby wand. He watched in horror as the woman waved the wand and lifted his parents to two chairs with their backs facing each other.

"Incarcerous" she shrieked and out of nowhere ropes flew towards them, binding them to their places. For a moment, the woman studied their faces as if they were works of art. It was an oddly tender moment for all the violence that would soon occur.

"What fools!" she spat. "They were so confident in their secret keeper that they didn't even bother using other protective spells. They should've known that anyone can be broken."

Benjamin watched with trepidation as the witch woke his parents up. He could see the sheer terror in his mothers eyes when she realized her two children had not escaped. Training be damned. She was a mother first. Turning to face her attacker, she pleaded "Please Bellatrix, let my sons go. Whatever is about to happen here, they've seen enough."

A cruel smile slid across Bellatrix's face and a dry cackle burst from her throat. "Is ickle Alice worried about her wittle babies? Don't worry. I have no plans to hurt them as long as you answer my questions. Too bad I can't say the same for you." She paused long enough to let her words sink in before screaming "Crucio"

Alice felt as if soldering irons were being slid across her skin and bamboo rods were being shoved under her nails. It was as if every single fiber of her being was engulfed in flame. She fought to maintain control, her Auror training kicking in. Knowing her children were only a few feet away, she fought to maintain her composure, but it only served to enrage Bellatrix all the more.

Frank couldn't see his wife, but he could feel her body convulse as wave after wave of pain hit her. They had trained for this scenario many times, but now faced with the reality of what was happening, he didn't think he could take it.

"Please." He begged "Torture me instead. My wife knows nothing about whatever it is you want."

For a moment the torture of Alice stopped as Bellatrix stepped directly in front of Frank. She bent towards him, gently placing a single finger across his lips and spoke as if speaking to a lover in the middle of the night. "Now, now Frank. Your time will come. You mustn't be impatient. The fun has just begun."

"Please. Tell me what it is you want."

Bellatrix paused. "What do we want? We want to know where our master is."

A huge shot of adrenaline coursed through Frank's veins. How could he possibly tell her where her master was when her master had died? It was then that he knew she was insane. Forcing himself to calm down, Frank locked eyes with the horrific woman standing before him. They were pitch black and full of malice, but he refused to look away. "Voldemort is dead."

The composure that Belletrix held snapped. "Lies!" she screamed "The Dark Lord is too great to be vanquished! Crucio!"

It was Frank's turn to suffer. He had been subjected to the Cruciatus Curse during Auror training, but it had been nothing like this. The people casting the spell in training didn't really hate him, but she certainly did. The fury with which her spell hit, felt like a tsunami ripping and smashing a town to pieces. He fought to stay calm just as wife had done, but the longer the pain continued the harder it was. Just when he thought he could bear no more, it stopped.

"I'll ask you again. Where is The Dark Lord?"

Frank was gasping for air, so Alice answered for him. "My husband tells the truth. Voldemort is dead. Harry Potter defeated him."

Rage contorted Bellatrix's mouth into a twisted, ugly snarl. "Do you think me a fool? How could a tiny baby defeat the greatest wizard of all time? I know you're lying! Now tell me where he is!"

Alice and Frank suffered wave after wave of the Cruciatus Curse, but worse than the physical pain was the psychological effect of listening to the other tortured and above all the fact that their sons were witnessing it as well. Tears were streaming down Alice's face and blood trickled down her chin as she begged Bellatrix for mercy on her children. "Bellatrix, please, let my children go. Torture us both endlessly if you like, but please, they don't need to see anymore of this."

Bellatrix watched their pain and suffering with amusement. She drank it all in like an elixir that would keep her alive. Truthfully, she felt no instinct to protect the children or shield them from what was happening. In fact, she felt that it was just as well that they died. If either Alice or Frank didn't break soon, she imagined torturing their children in front of them might loosen their lips.

Returning her focus to Alice, Bellatrix asked again "Where is the Dark Lord?"

Desperation filled Alice. "I keep telling you that he's dead! I can't tell you where he is if he doesn't exist anymore!"

Once again she was filled with gut-wrenching, bone-jarring pain. She could no longer contain her agony, screaming as if her lungs were filled with Fiendfyre. Snot ran from her nose and tears cascaded across her cheeks. Words burst from her mouth, but she couldn't comprehend at all what she was saying. The only thing she knew for certain was that she couldn't last much longer.

Benjamin watched from a few feet away. He was too young to understand who the Dark Lord was, but not too young to understand his mother's pain. Slowly, his young brain realized that they were going to die and a foolish courage swelled inside of him. He charged forward with all his might, slamming his tiny body into the woman causing his mother's agony. The sudden force caused her to lose her balance and stagger sideways. Rays of magic exploded from Benjamin, raising books from their shelves and slamming chairs across the room. The shutters on the window banged back and forth. The walls shook and the ground moved. Instead of fighting to control it, he let it explode from his every pore.

Frank looked at his son, the miniature of himself, filled with bravery, and furiously attempted to escape. His hands clawed at the ropes that held him to the chair. He knew that this moment of distraction would last no longer than a few seconds before the Death Eaters regained composure. If he wasn't free by then it would mean certain death for them all.

One of the knots in Frank's restraints had just come loose when a green flash filled the room. The bright flash hit Benjamin square in the chest and suddenly the room was silent. Frank could hear a loud ringing in his ears and even though he saw his young son's body fall, he couldn't wrap his brain around what had actually happened.

"Benjamin, get up. Run." Frank screamed. Hot, acidic bile was bubbling up in the back of his throat. When Benjamin didn't respond to his cries, his world flipped upside down. Nothing from that point on ever made sense to Frank again.

Alice sat stock still in her chair. Any fight she had left died with her eldest son. Her eyes were fixated on his young body sprawled across the carpet as if he were sleeping. As she stared, she could vaguely hear a baby crying. Her head snapped up, scanning the room for Neville. In the chaos, his chair had been knocked over sideways and he lay in a heap a few meters away. He was the only purpose left in her life. She resolved in that moment to survive for him.

Bellatrix approached Alice one last time, eyes full of hatred. She had long since realized that neither Alice nor Frank knew where The Dark Lord was, but there was something satisfying about torturing them anyways. Frank had been broken, but still Alice defied her and she despised her for it. Determined to break her as well, Bellatrix raised her wand once more.

Time blurred for Alice as Bellatrix hit her time and again. Each time the pain started, she would focus on Neville and the idea that she must be there to raise him. It was the only thing that kept her sane in the room full of insanity.

After what seemed like years, Rodolphus stepped forward. "Bella, my love. That's enough. We've made a lot of noise and the Aurors are bound to show up here eventually. I would prefer that we were gone before they arrived. Either kill them or it's time to go."

Bellatrix looked at Frank sitting catatonic in his chair. "Leave them. After what I've done, I doubt they'll ever be able to string together a coherent sentence between the two of them again." With that the three Death Eaters swept from the house, sealing the door shut behind them.

The ropes fell from Alice's limp body, signifying that the Death Eaters had left their immediate proximity. With the last ounce of strength left in her broken and battered body, Alice collapsed forward onto the floor. She dragged herself to her dead child, kissing him tenderly, and closing his still eyes. Nothing could be done for him now, but Neville was still alive.

Looking across the dining room, she could see his tiny body on the floor under the table, his high chair toppled over beside him. She dragged herself as close to Neville as she could, but her body failed her. Half a meter lay between her and her child. As the world started to spin around her, she reached her arm out to him grasping vaguely at the area where he lay. The edges of her vision began to blur just as she managed to grab hold of one of his chubby little baby hands. Then blackness surrounded her.


	2. Kingsley

When neither Frank nor Alice showed up for work the next day, an Auror was summoned to check on their whereabouts. Kingsley Shacklebolt, a young recruit, fresh out of training, responded to the call. A supervising Auror filled him in on the details.

"Look Kingsley, I'm sure everything will be fine. We're just concerned because normally Alice and Frank are quite punctual and Frank should've been her over an hour ago. We've sent a patronus, but have received no response. Odds are one of the kids is probably ill or something like that, but you never can be too careful these days. Just swing on by and make sure everything's alright."

Despite his boss' reassurances, Kingsley felt an odd tension in the pit of his stomach. Something deep down in his gut told him that all of this was very wrong. He vaguely knew Alice and Frank from training. They had instructed several of the different scenarios during his courses. His impression of them was that they both took immense pride in their jobs. He seriously doubted that a sick child would keep them from at least responding to a ministry patronus.

Nervously, Kingsley walked towards the fireplaces used to floo all over the country. Grasping a handful of floo powder, he said in a loud, even voice "The Longbottom home" before stepping into the grate. Green flames swirled around him, licking at his sides, but Kingsley felt nothing more than a mild tickling sensation. A few short seconds later he was standing in the fireplace in the living room of the Longbottom home.

Nothing appeared to be physically out of order as Kingsley stepped into the living room. He listened for sounds that might indicate anyone's presence, but everything was silent. So silent in fact, that he could hear his heart pounding in his chest.

"Stop being silly. Everything is fine. They're probably out for the day. " He said to himself, even though deep down he knew the words were as empty as the room he currently stood in.

It wasn't until he reached the dining room that any sign of a struggle appeared. As he approached the door way, he could see a chair tipped over on its side and a vase smashed a few feet away from it. A rustling sound, coming from just inside of the doorway caused Kingsley to pause. As quietly as possible, he reached into the pocket of his robes and withdrew his wand. He held it out in front of him, prepared to stun anyone who might attack.

Within seconds Kingsley had entered the dining room, ready for a fight, but what he would find stopped him dead in his tracks. Judging by the chaos of the scene it was evident to him that there was a massive struggle. Window shutters were falling off hinges. Books were scattered all around the room. The dining room table as well as one chair were smashed and the floor was covered in a sticky looking red substance that he immediately recognized to be blood.

The disarray of the room was horrifying enough, but what sat in the center of it was something Kingsley would never forget until his dying day. Frank Longbottom sat in the middle of the room, completely catatonic. Blood was trickling out of the hundreds of tiny cuts that seemed to cover his body. A dark purple bruise had bloomed on his left cheek and his bottom lip was swollen from having nearly bitten through it.

At Frank's feet lay a tiny body, who Kingsley assumed must be their oldest son, Benjamin. He reached the child in three strides. Bending down, he flipped the tiny body that was now stiff from rigor mortis. Even though he knew it was futile, he searched the child's neck for a pulse. Holding his wand above Benjamin he whispered "Enervate" in a shaky voice. Nothing happened, confirming Kingsley's suspicions that the child was dead.

A noise in the far corner of the room, forced Kingsley to take his eyes off of the tiny corpse before him. Scanning the room quickly, he saw Alice sprawled out across the dining room floor. Her silk robe was wrapped around her wiry frame and one of her pink bunny slippers had fallen from her foot. It sat a few feet away, a silent witness to all that had occurred. Kingsley watched her for a moment, but saw no movement.

As Kingsley approached Alice's body, he assumed the worst, but was surprised when she groaned ever so slightly. He was even more surprised when he noticed her arm extended past her head, holding on tightly to a chubby little baby, who appeared to be scared, but otherwise unharmed.

During Auror training, Kingsley had received basic medical training. Deeming Alice's condition to be the most dire, he set to work muttering incantations to stabilize her. Her breathing evened out and her eyes fluttered open.

"Welcome back, Alice. I need you to try and hold still. Everything is going to be okay. The Mediwizards will be here soon." Kingsley reassured her.

Alice smiled and for a minute looked perfectly whole, but then words began to slip from her mouth. "I'm so glad you're here. That baby over there has been crying for hours. I've done my best to comfort him, but I have no idea where his mother has gone. I do hope she'll be back soon."

Kingsley tried to explain that the child was hers, but it was to no avail. She didn't seem to remember having children or marrying. In fact, she didn't seem to have any clue where she was at all. Kingsley had seen similar reactions in people who had suffered concussions and hoped it would only be temporary amnesia, but once again his gut told him to expect the worst.

Stepping back, Kingsley twirled his wand and said "Expecto Patronum!" A lynx burst forth from his wand and he gave it a message to deliver to the Ministry.

Soon the small dining room was flooded with Aurors and Mediwizards. His suspicions about Benjamin were confirmed as Mediwizards pronounced the tiny boy dead on arrival. Frank and Alice were loaded onto gurneys and prepared for emergency apparition. In the hubbub, Neville lay forgotten, like a discarded rag doll. Realizing that no one had noticed him, Kingsley bent down and picked him up off of the floor.

With Neville in his big strong arms, Kingsley sat down against the far wall and watched as every inch of the room was analyzed. He found it odd that up until this point he had felt nothing, but numbness. Here he was in a room where a child had been murdered and two of his mentors had been tortured into possible insanity. He felt that he should feel something, but he didn't. He couldn't. Feeling would mean having to acknowledge that it was all real.

Neville fussed a bit and Kingsley rocked him gently, staring off into the center of the room where one of Alice's pink bunny slippers still lay. The absurdity of the smiling face on that stupid slipper in the middle of all this sheer horror finally elicited some emotion from him. Rage hit him in massive waves, consuming him, drowning him, and spinning him. Never in his life had he felt so helpless or angry.

An hour into the investigation, Augusta Longbottom showed up to pick up her grandsons for the day. It was her routine to care for them while their parents were at work. She walked into the dining room, not realizing anything was wrong. For a moment she stood staring, until an Auror rushed forward, trying to shield her view of her grandchild's lifeless body. It was a valiant effort, but far too late

Normally a proud woman, Augusta crumpled into the stranger's arms and begged him to tell her it wasn't real. Unfortunately, no amount of pleading on her part could change the cold, hard truth. The Auror explained it to her as gently as possible, but the effort was futile. There was really no way to explain what had happened in a non-offensive manner.

Just when Augusta seemed as if she was about to give up herself, Kingsley cautiously stepped forward, arms outstretched, holding Neville straight out in front of him. He knew that this wouldn't make up for all of the other loses, but he hoped it would give her enough to live for. At the moment, she was all Neville had left.

At the sight of the baby, Augusta began to pull herself together slightly. She took Neville into her arms and held him tightly against her chest, promising to take care of him. With one last look across the room at her other grandchild's lifeless body, she clambered to her feet and left. Kingsley watched her walk just outside of the house, spin on the spot, and apparate away. He hoped that she and Neville would be okay.

That night Kingsley returned home a changed man. The carefree person who had left that morning was gone, replaced by someone who had taken a glimpse into the worst part of humanity. Upon entering his London flat, Kingsley saw his beautiful fiancée, Kiara, waiting for him, dinner piping hot on the table. The smell of bangers and mash and onion gravy filled the room.

The toll the day had taken on him must've registered on his face because Kiara rushed forward quickly, encircling him in her arms. She didn't say anything. Just held him. It was one of the reasons Kingsley loved her so, because she knew when it was best not to say anything. As she held him, he inhaled deeply taking in the scent of her freshly washed hair. He pressed his cheek to hers trying to hold onto every second he had left with her.

Memories of their love story flashed through his mind. They had met first year and he had teased her mercilessly. By third year, he was head over heels for her, but it took a good two years of chasing her around for her to finally concede to a date. It had been love from that point on. Instantaneous, molten hot, unquenchable love. He had never tired of her nor she of him. There had been no others. Only her. And now he would have to leave all of that behind.

Gently, Kingsley placed his hands on Kiara's forearms and pushed her away from him. She looked at him inquisitively, unsure of what was happening, but he brushed past her, throwing himself into a chair at the dinner table. Refusing to make eye contact, he began the hardest sentences he ever had to speak in his life.

"Kiara, I'm so sorry. I don't expect you to understand this, but I can't be with you anymore. I'm sure by now you've heard that there was a suspected Death Eater attack off in Surrey. I responded to that call today. It was Frank and Alice Longbottom and I won't tell you the details because I don't want you to have to think about such things, but suffice it to say I couldn't imagine anything more horrific if I tried."

"But what does that have to do with us? With our relationship?" Kiara's voice was calm, but her eyes betrayed her. Kingsley could see panic bubbling up in them as he spoke.

"You know I love you more than anyone else in the entire world, but after what I've seen today, I now know that being with me only increases the likelihood that you will be hurt. My job makes you a target. It makes anyone I potentially care about a target. We could never have a family because our kids would become targets. Don't you see? This has to end because I could never live with myself if someone attacked you to get to me. I'm sorry Kiara, but I have to go."

Kingsley stood up and walked into the bedroom he had shared with her for the last two years. Rapidly, he packed a suitcase and was almost out the door when Kiara stopped him. Tears were pouring over her cheeks, her normally neat composure filled with frenetic energy.

"Please stop. Wait. Please stop. Kingsley, please." She begged. "I don't care about the risk. I would give up everything to spend my life with you. Surely you must know that after everything we've been through together. Please, don't leave me. I need you."

Daggers of pain tore through Kingsley's chest and abdomen. "I know you would Kiara. I don't doubt it for a single moment. I would give up anything for you as well, even my own happiness. I hope you can understand that that is why I'm leaving. You deserve a happy, whole man and a normal life. You deserve kids, a backyard, and a white picket fence. With me those things are no longer an option. Giving you up is like giving up the air I breathe, but I will do it gladly if it will keep you safe."

Kiara broke down into hysterics, collapsing into a pile on the hallway floor. She cried and cried, until there were no tears left and her sobs turned to hiccoughs. Her stomach clenched and spasmed, causing her to feel like she might vomit all over the beautiful wooden flooring that Kingsley had laid two years past. In her arms, she held a photograph of the two of them from a year previous. They were laughing at something happening outside of the picture frame, but their eyes exuded life and promise and hope.

Trying her best to calm down so she could speak, Kiara handed the picture to Kingsley. "A-a-a-t lea-a-a-st take thi-i-i-s with yo-o-o-u" she wailed.

Kingsley accepted the picture frame, turned and walked out the door. It was the hardest thing he had ever done in his short life, but he saw no other option. He found a cheap studio across town close to his favorite dive bar and settled into his new single, solitary life. During the day he got by fine, but at night he missed Kiara terribly. He slept very little between the empty bed, the dreams of Kiara, and the nightmares of what happened to the Longbottoms. When he awoke from a nightmare covered in a cold sweat, the only thing that brought Kingsley any modicum of solace was that Kiara was safe and that Neville Longbottom had survived.

To his dying day, Kingsley would wonder what became of Kiara. He certainly knew that he had the power to find her if he wanted to, but abstained from doing so because it would only rip open old closed over wounds. Kingsley would never go on another date, let alone allow himself to fall in love. Even his friends were pushed away, kept at an arm's distance.

The only friendship he allowed himself to develop was a tentative one with Augusta Longbottom. Upon occasion, when Kingsley was feeling particularly miserable, he would visit her to remind himself why he chose to be an Auror. Every time he saw Neville, who seemed to be growing at an alarmingly rapid rate, he knew he had made the right choice.


	3. Neville

Neville spent his life growing up with his grandmother, believing he was an only child. His grandmother rationalized not telling him about his brother because he was so young and his life was tragic enough as it was without carrying ghosts around with him. On the rare occasions that Kingsley would visit to check on Neville's progress, they would argue about it. He thought Neville had a right to know, but since he wasn't Neville's family, he felt he had no right to tell him.

It wouldn't be until his twenty third birthday, well after his grandmother's death, that Kingsley would finally tell Neville about Benjamin. It was a quiet little celebration in Neville's London flat. All of the usual suspects had been present earlier, but now it was just the two of them. They sat at Neville's dining room table drinking tea and watching the rain blur the London lights, neither of them being a man of many words.

Kingsley was wrapped up in thought about the best method for telling Neville about his brother. No matter how he worded it in his head, it all sounded terrible. Finally, he decided that straight forward honesty was the best policy. He cleared his throat and said "Neville, I have something to tell you. It's not something that is going to be easy to hear, but it's about time you learned the truth about what happened the night that the Death Eater's attacked your family. I've wanted to tell you for a long time, but your grandmother insisted that you not be told. Now that she's gone, I feel like I can finally tell you."

Neville focused intently on what was being said. Kingsley's deep baratone voice and the pitter patter of the rain against the window pane had an oddly soothing effect. Even though he was shocked by what he was hearing, Neville remained silent.

"Your brother was five. His name was Benjamin."

By the time Kingsley finished, tears were streaming down Neville's cheeks and snot was dripping from his nose. He used his shirt sleeve to wipe it away. His brain felt like it might explode. There was no way he could fathom why he hadn't been told about his brother up until this point.

"I'm sorry Neville. I wish I had told you sooner. You deserved to know the truth and Benjamin deserved to be remembered for the hero that he was. I wish there was something I could say that would offer some modicum of solace, but I know the appropriate words don't exist."

"I don't understand. Why did my grandmother not want me to know?"

A deep sigh escaped Kingsley's lips. "I don't think it was that she didn't want you to know. I think it was more that she couldn't bear talking about it. Even if I had explained it you, I'm sure she would've been worried that you would've asked questions or wanted to visit his grave. I don't think she could deal with it."

"Where is he buried?" Neville asked, staring down at his tea.

"In Kensal Green Cemetery. There's the Anglican Chapel in the center of the cemetery. You just walk straight at it like you would platform 9 ¾ and you'll be through to the other side. Your brother is buried just a few feet from there under a large tree. I oversaw the burial myself, since you're grandmother was too torn up to deal with it."

"Can I visit his grave site?"

"Of course. If you like I could take you to it."

Neville paused to think for a moment. "No. I think I would prefer to go alone. Thank you for offering though."

The next morning, Neville awoke early. He showered quickly, pausing for just a moment to let the hot water stream over his puffy eyelids.

After the with his parents, Neville apparated to the cemetery where his brother was buried. It was one of those scorching summer afternoons where the stagnant air was suffocating. There was no breeze to rustle the tree branches nor birds to chirp and break up the silence. He walked through the deserted cemetery, eyes focused on the ground, until he reached the place that Kingsley had described. His brother's tombstone was simple, his name etched in neat letters. Leaves and overgrown grass partially covered it. Neville stood there in silence, imagining how his life would've been had they grown up together. He wiped away the tears that were welling in his eyes.

"I told Mom I was coming to visit you today." He said "She gave me something to give to you." He bent down and placed a handful of chewing gum wrappers gently on the headstone. With that, he turned and walked away.


End file.
